


light

by floralish



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2020-08-20 13:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20228929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floralish/pseuds/floralish
Summary: seokmin just had an awful week. cue jeonghan and his strawberry scented hair.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> based loosely on the idea that A meets B, A thinks B is the bad type but B is actually the goody type etc etc
> 
> i Do want to make this chaptered at some point because i have a vague idea of how i might want to continue based on ^ but i don't know when it'll happen. so i've marked it as chaptered for now and so uhh enjoy!

His vision is a little blurry. The bass of whatever song is playing is bombarding his eardrums as Seokmin slinks down onto the too-soft couch. The edges of his thoughts are tinted orange, the warmth of the room and the tingling feeling of needing to _move _to the rhythm coursing through his system. On any other occasion he would be in the heart of the action, the center of attention as he flaunted his flawless sense of rhythm, the notes he can so effortlessly reach beautifully complimenting the melody.

Tonight is different though. The weight of the universe weighs down on him and the fuzziness of the toned-down world keeps him dull and powerless on the slightly smelly couch. He stretches his hand out in front of him, watching the people and dim lights through the gaps of his fingers. Whispering underneath his breath, he counts how many fingers he has, how many people he can see, how many minutes had passed, how many exams he had bombed. The pressure on his chest grows just a bit tighter, the room closing in a little more around him.

He groans, drops his head to lean on the headrest and closes his eyes. He messes up exams kind of often, to be fair, and at least he isn’t failing anything. Yet. Everything about these midterms just _feels _different, like something is bit off and there’s nothing he can do about it. He needs to head back soon before his roommate worries, but this stinky couch is almost comforting in its mushiness. He pulls out his phone to text his roommate that he’s going to sleep on this sorry excuse for a couch when someone waves their hand in front of his face.

Seokmin puts on his angry face (his friends usually called it pouty) and glared up at the offender. His face softens when he vaguely recognizes her. Someone from his nutrition lecture, possibly. Maybe he had sat next to her once. She has dark, wavy long hair with bangs that compliment her objectively cute face. Face flushed, with tiny bits of light reflecting off her sequined top, she offers Seokmin a cup of something with her outstretched hand.

He stares at the rings adorning her graceful fingers. “What is this?” he manages to get out, reaching for the cup.

“Something my friend mixed,” she replies, “it’s like, sweet and fizzy, I thought you might like it!”

Seokmin peeks into the cup. It does seem fizzy and… pink? He appreciates her thoughtfulness. “Thank you uhhh,” he doesn’t remember her name, does he even know it? “Friend. I’ll definitely enjoy it.” He lifts the cup a little and nods, standard procedure, when a hand reaches out and grabs the drink from his hand.

The girl turns with a start, both she and Seokmin looking at the intruder. Seokmin has never seen a man look so angelic as he downs an entire cup of whatever that was. He’s still not sure what it is but it looks like he won’t find out. The stranger wipes his lips with the back of his hand, the movement making his dark bangs sweep across his face.

“Great drink darling, but I want to talk to him,” he says with a slightly lopsided grin. His eyes twinkle. The girl looks disgusted at the words, but sends Seokmin a wink and a whispered ‘I’ll see you next time’ before walking away with a glare.

The stranger sits down next to Seokmin, much to his bewilderment. Seokmin was pretty sure he had never seen him before in his short lifetime. He stares at the new company, taking in the slightly wrinkled, lavender-colored t-shirt and the perfectly tight jeans of the stranger. The outfit suits him, Seokmin thinks. The casual hand loosely holding the now-empty cup and his relaxed posture really gives him a look that shows he does this kind of stuff a lot. The world becomes a bit clearer when he looks at him. A disheveled bob had never looked so good. All the lights in the room shine down onto his face when he turns and smiles at Seokmin.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” are the words he says as Seokmin struggles to comprehend anything beyond the way his lips shape those words. “I’m Jeonghan by the way.” He sets down the cup reaches out for a handshake.

“Uh,” Seokmin replies and grabs the offered hand – wow, this Jeonghan guy has soft hands. “I’m Seokmin.”

Jeonghan smiles serenely at him. “I know,” he says and Seokmin’s eyes widen, his muddled brain suddenly reaching for ways out of this interaction. Why would this complete stranger know his name and how he looks? Why had he approached him in this way on this night?

Seokmin’s thoughts run off into the warnings his mother had given him about stranger danger, as Jeonghan winces before saying “Relax Seokmin, your cousin wanted me to watch after you tonight.”

Jeonghan’s words process in his mind and Seokmin finally loosens his grip on Jeonghan’s hand. Jeonghan is still smiling at him, even while rubbing his hand that Seokmin had nearly crushed. Seokmin is going to have a word with his cousin – who happens to be his roommate – when he gets back to his apartment. “I don’t need anyone to watch over me,” he mutters, tearing his gaze away from Jeonghan.

Jeonghan seems to ponder what he had been told rather exaggeratedly, hand on his chin, lips jutted out, eyes looking up, and legs crossed for a finishing touch. He maintains this position for at least five seconds while Seokmin looks on silently. Finally, he looks back at Seokmin and smiles, eyes glinting with something like amusement, saying “I’m afraid you are not the judge of that.” He dramatically flops back onto the couch, heaving a tired sigh. “You have no idea how worried our Jihoon has been about you. ‘Seokmin’s good mornings sound tired. Seokmin only sings sad songs in the shower. Seokmin hasn’t been shooting sunshine out of his ass lately.’ I love your cousin, but do you know how difficult it is to collaborate on a presentation when the person you’re supposed to be working with is worried about anything else but the assignment?”

Ok, that kind of hits Seokmin out of left field. He hadn’t even realized that Jihoon had noticed, let alone cared so much. If it was bothering him that much – “Why didn’t he just bring it up with me?”

He receives an incredulous look. “Do you think I haven’t suggested that? Whenever he brought it up I would ask why doesn’t he ask you what’s wrong. Then he would be all like ‘Oh hyung, you know I can’t just _ask _about how he _feels_. That’s not my brand.’ I personally think that’s bullsh-, BS. He obviously cares about what’s wrong, he just doesn’t want to face having to give advice or whatever.” A dramatic groan. “But I owe him a favor and he wanted me to make sure you don’t do anything stupid tonight. So here I am.” Jeonghan opens his arms in a ta-da gesture, a small smile back on his face.

Seokmin looks back down. “He could have just asked what’s wrong,” he mumbles, touched but a bit upset. He appreciates his cousin’s concern and adores him to death, but Jihoon hyung was always slightly awkward on the matter of talking about emotions out loud. It doesn’t change the fact that Seokmin is a little hurt by how Jihoon had lacked the willpower to just simply talk to him about it. That and the stress of exams and everything feeling just a bit off cumulates in his heart, filling it with cotton that threatens to burst through. The music, suddenly too loud, muffles his ears, and his thoughts jumble themselves together into a ball of scribbles in his brain.

An arm gently places itself around him, rubbing his arm soothingly. All his dramatic antics gone, Jeonghan says to him, “Hey, don’t put too much thought into it, he’ll come around someday.” When Seokmin doesn’t respond he continues, “You know what, let’s get out of here. Whoever made the playlist did a bad job anyways.”

The ugly couch feels too much like home for Seokmin to leave, and he tells Jeonghan as much. Jeonghan just gives him another one of his small smiles, wordlessly helping him up and guiding him through the groups of people and out the door. The slightly chilly air of a winter that’s not quite ready to go brushes past their faces, causing Seokmin to lean into Jeonghan for a bit of warmth. The air really is refreshing and clears his mind a little, but the weight in his chest remains.

Jeonghan leads him down the street and into a weathered gray sedan, opening the passenger side for Seokmin. Seokmin meekly steps in and stares ahead as Jeonghan walks around to sit in the driver’s seat. The car vaguely smells a bit musty, but a fruity scent covers most of it. Seokmin looks down. The interior is fairly clean too, with just some stray receipts rolling around, and is that a cigarette?

“Do you smoke?” Seokmin blurts out.

Jeonghan stops in the middle of pulling on his seat belt and looks at him. “Not anymore,” a pause, “What makes you ask?”

Seokmin points at the cigarette next to his feet and Jeonghan leans over to look. Seokmin makes note of the slight strawberry fragrance of his hair. Jeonghan lets out a small “ah” and leans back into his seat.

“It must’ve fallen out or something when I used to carry them around,” he shrugs. “I quit because I didn’t like the smell. They’re also just not good for you, you know?”

Seokmin nods. He does know.

Jeonghan is about to put on his seat belt again, then looks over at Seokmin with a frown before leaning over again, this time reaching across him for the seat belt. He secures the seat belt around Seokmin, muttering something about safety and patting his shoulder.

“Let’s go for ice cream; change up the mood,” Jeonghan says as he finally puts on his own seat belt.

The world suddenly starts swimming in front of Seokmin’s eyes. He internally groans but he can’t help it. Jeonghan is being so kind to him at the end of a particularly brutal week, even if it was his cousin who had set him up to do it. He feels bad for thinking negatively of Jeonghan earlier, and he feels bad that Jeonghan has to put up with him, but what the hell, he really needs this tonight. He gathers his hands on his laps and wills himself to not let it happen, but the sniffle escapes him anyways.

Jeonghan immediately turns to him, concern probably written all over his face, and Seokmin can’t bear to look at him. When he finally looks up after a few more sniffles, Jeonghan is looking at him with a faint line between his eyebrows. “It’s okay to cry you know,” he says softly, and tears make their way down Seokmin’s face, his breaths becoming more ragged. Jeonghan looks a bit sad himself as he wipes away Seokmin’s tears with his thumbs, undoing the seat belt he had had to try so many times to fasten, so that he can gather Seokmin into the best hug he could manage in the front seat of a car. Seokmin holds on tightly, being careful to not get snot on Jeonghan’s shirt, and soaking in the warmth and security he felt in that moment. Jeonghan is rubbing circles on his back and murmuring that it’s going to be okay into his ear, and he finds that he kind of believes him.

They stay like that until Seokmin can breathe on his own again, lets out a final sniffle, and leans back into his seat. He honestly feels a little ashamed now that he’s got the worst of it out of his system, but at least his heart is lighter. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” he says into the air. “Thank you for dealing with it though.”

At the click of a seat belt fastening, he looks over at Jeonghan who replies, “no need for any of that. Everyone has their days. I’m glad I could offer some help through yours.” At these words, Seokmin feels safe next to Jeonghan even though they had met less than an hour ago. He wants to forget about everything bothering him and just enjoy ice cream with Jeonghan and his strawberry hair. Jeonghan navigates the darkened streets, and Seokmin doesn’t feel alone.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ice cream talk over ice cream at the ice cream parlor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone else in this thread have to move into an apartment this week and also have very many things happening
> 
> if so let's commiserate over this word dump below
> 
> i've also never given good advice in my life and it shows... im sorry... but let's get to it

Seokmin and Jeonghan are sitting across from each other at an ice cream parlor that barely has anyone in it. To make up for the lack of noise, the parlor had decided to put on some popular tracks from ten years ago. The table is next to a window, and Seokmin looks out at the occasional cars passing by, his hands politely in his lap. Jeonghan seems to be busy typing something on his phone, something about ‘telling Jihoon that you have been secured.’ Staring out the window is enough to keep Seokmin occupied. The view reminds him of some ballad that was popular back in the day, and he softly hums under his breath, waiting for the arrival of their shared sundae.

The sound of a phone being set down interrupts his brief reverie. Seokmin looks up to find Jeonghan giving him a look that he can’t quite place. He shifts uncomfortably. “Is something wrong?” he asks in a way he hopes is casual.

At this Jeonghan slightly tilts his head, tucking his hair behind his ear. His lavender shirt goes nicely with the cream-colored seats but clashes with the red accents on the white wall. Seokmin unconsciously reaches for his own hair, patting down imaginary stray hairs. “No,” Jeonghan replies, “just thinking about how your family must have some crazy good music genes for both you and Jihoon to be out here doing all that.”

The harsh lighting overhead puts Jeonghan’s features into sharp contrast, emphasizing his slightly tired but earnest eyes. Seokmin looks down, feeling heat rising into his ears. “I’m not as good as Jihoon hyung,” he says to his lap.

“Oh please,” Jeonghan says with a shake of his head. “Jihoon is talented, but that doesn’t take away any of your own talents. You know that right? Jihoon isn’t some sort of talent vampire, though I have my reservations on admitting he’s not just a regular vampire.”

They share a small moment of laughter. As their amusement settles into the growingly comfortable atmosphere surrounding them, the server finally arrives with an extravagant sundae. “It’s always the Strawberry Supreme with you, isn’t it hyung?” he directs at Jeonghan with a huff.

“Of course!” Jeonghan has already taken a spoonful of the ice cream and the generously drizzed chocolate syrup. “It’s your only good sundae.”

The server, Chan, according to his nametag, rolls his eyes and halfheartedly swats at Jeonghan’s hand, which is now ruffling Chan’s hair. Seokmin pokes at the sundae with his spoon as banter continues next to him. He takes a bite with some whipped cream and is pleasantly surprised at the fresh strawberry taste the ice cream contains.

Chan successfully evades all of Jeonghan’s attempts at styling his hair and straightens his red checkered apron before sitting down next to Jeonghan. “Who are you with anyway? Why don’t you introduce us instead of bothering my hair?”

Jeonghan shifts over to accommodate Chan and takes the opportunity to smooth Chan’s hair, as Chan just looks annoyed.

“I’m Seokmin,” Seokmin offers after swallowing his most recent spoonful of ice cream, this time with one of the strawberries that decorate the top of the sundae. “I go to the university just over there for music education.” He gives Chan his signature smile, which seems to work, he notes with relief.

Chan is looking at him with now-shining eyes. “That’s so cool! I’m Chan and I’m undeclared right now because I’m fighting with my parents. But since you’re in music education, does that mean you’re like, really good at singing? Or piano? Do you work with really little kids and have to yell at them because they don’t listen?”

After the barrage of questions from Chan, Seokmin takes a moment to gather himself. He hadn’t expected such enthusiasm, and it was endearing, in a way.

Across from Seokmin, Jeonghan sighs. “You don’t have to answer all that. Chan is just naturally very curious. Like when I used to babysit him, and he really wanted to know what was inside his parents’ locked top secret cabinet. So obviously he just– “

Chan makes a strangled noise and Jeonghan laughs, pinching Chan’s cheeks. It’s all so casually… intimate? No, it’s more of a brotherly type of affection. If the brothers happened to be very close like Jeonghan and Chan appeared to be.

There’s a slight tug in his chest, but he ignores it for the sake of scooping more ice cream into his mouth. His brain receptors focus on the comfortingly sweet sensation.

A sound of a bell ringing from the kitchen echoes throughout the parlor. Chan gets up as if he had been shocked. “That’s for me,” he says while quickly straightening his uniform. “I don’t know why they’re calling me back as if there’s anything to do around here but,” he waves at them both while starting his brisk walk back. “It was nice seeing you again Jeonghan hyung! It was also nice to meet you Seokmin hyung! You’re older than me, right? Well, I’ll see you both again sometime! Enjoy your sundae!” The last part was practically shouted across the floor as Chan was pulled into the kitchen.

The attention at Seokmin and Jeonghan’s table turns back to the sundae. Jeonghan twirls his spoon, a drop of melted ice cream dripping onto the table. “Wow, you really went for it while Chan was here,” he comments, looking at the already half-gone sundae.

“You can have the rest of it,” Seokmin offers, and Jeonghan shakes his head with a laugh.

“We can just share what’s left. I’m not all that hungry.”

Silence settles around them once more, the clanking of spoons against glass punctuating the air. Jeonghan is the first to break it. “Chan is really sweet once you know him. I can’t help but cheer him on in everything he does. We’ve known each other since forever and he’s like my little brother, you know what I mean?” The last sentence is said with a smile so gentle Seokmin doesn’t know if he should be looking.

Seokmin has always had people looking after him if he really thinks about it, and wonders if any of them think about him the way Jeonghan does about Chan. “Yeah, I do,” he says.

“You’re feeling down again,” Jeonghan comments as he finishes the last drops of the sundae. It’s not a question, but it’s not accusatory. Just a statement like any other, as if he had said that it was Friday today, or that it’s nearing 11pm.

Seokmin leans against the window, not feeling up for denying or confirming anything anymore. The lights outside are varying shades of yellow and orange, the crescent moon in the sky just barely visible. He watches out of the edge of his eyes as Jeonghan moves the empty sundae bowl to the end of the table and scoots closer to face him. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want,” Jeonghan offers simply, “but if you do, I’m here.”

“I feel like I’ve burdened you enough tonight,” the words slip out before he can stop them, and Seokmin pinches himself for letting it happen. “You dragged me out of that hellhole party and bought me ice cream after I cried on your shirt. I’m very grateful, but you don’t have to worry about it. I’m fine, really. I mean, I’ll get over it you know? Everyone has off days and today is mine. I’ll go home and tell Jihoon hyung you’re amazing and then you won’t owe him anymore and everything will be okay.”

The sound of a car cruising by reaches them, and Jeonghan looks at Seokmin, almost scrutinizing him. The headlights of the car cast a moving glow across both their faces. “I’m not doing this just because Jihoon asked me to.” Jeonghan’s fingers play with a stray napkin on the table. “I know you don’t really have reason to trust me right now, but I promise I do want to help you. Or at least listen to you. Out of my own free will.”

Seokmin does want to tell him. He wants to let out the frustrations he’s built up to someone, that despite how stupid his situation may sound, it still eats away at his thoughts. The words crawl up out of his heart, but keep getting stuck at his throat, and Seokmin flounders. “I don’t even know where to start,” he manages, and Jeonghan gives him an encouraging smile.

“That’s fine. How about you tell me about your day?”

Oh god, what a day he’s had. “From the beginning?” Seokmin asks tentatively.

Jeonghan nods his answer, folding his hands in front of him in what must be a preparation to listen.

Seokmin gulps. “Well, I got up at 9am because that’s when my alarm goes off, and I washed up and changed, then went to eat cereal. I couldn’t skip breakfast even if I wanted to; Jihoon hyung makes sure to ask me if I had breakfast, and I can’t lie to his face, or to anyone’s face. He asks me every day and scolds me if I don’t, which is kind of funny because he doesn’t eat breakfast too often either, but I’m not allowed to say that.” He can’t help but drum his fingers against the table with nervous energy. Jeonghan is still looking at him intently, and it’s a bit nerve-wracking. Seokmin looks back out the window.

“I ate the cereal of course, but I couldn’t eat too much because I had a presentation in my first class. I was really nervous because the presentation was a really big part of our grade, and it was a group one. You know how group projects have all these horror stories attached to them?” A sigh. “Basically all of those happened to me. I was grouped with some people and when I asked in the group chat when we could meet up, none of them would answer. Then I tried to at least message them individually, asking if they could do a small part of the project, and they would come up with these elaborate excuses. Did they really think I would believe that they were suddenly deathly ill when they showed up to lectures just fine? Or that they’re the only ones who have other classes’ assignments to worry about?”

“So I was holed up in the library for this entire week, trying to get that presentation done, when I had two other midterms this week too! When I was going in one day I saw one of my groupmates walking by, so I stopped him to ask, like, hey what’s up with you not having done much of the project yet? And I told him I understand he might have other obligations, but that this is a group project. He just scoffed at me and said he’s too stupid anyways and that since I’m nice and smart he knows I can do it better, and that I should just think of it as a favor to him.

Seokmin can’t help but slouch a bit in the hard, plastic chairs, and notices that despite his ramblings, Jeonghan doesn’t look disinterested.

“I really bombed the other midterms of course, and don’t say I don’t know if I did yet, because I got the results back already. I couldn’t focus well during lectures, because I was worrying about my stupid presentation, then I couldn’t sleep well because I was worried I would fail the entire semester. Things falling apart like that really made time fly, and the next thing I know I’m standing at the front of the room with my presentation I did by myself. I gave everyone notecards to read from, so it at least looks like they contributed to the presentation, but I think I was expecting too much from them. They barely made it through, and even that’s being generous. The look the professor gave me when we were done was pure pity, and I wanted to fall through the floor right there and then.”

Recounting everything just makes the weight on Seokmin’s shoulders more unbearable, but he’s come this far. The liberation of getting it out there is enough to counteract the weight.

“When the presentations were over and we were all leaving, one of my groupmates, the one I saw outside the library, stopped me. I didn’t even get to say anything before he started getting mad at me that I had ruined his grades, and that if he knew it would have been this bad, he would’ve done it himself! I wanted to tell him that every part of that sentence was grossly wrong and uncalled for, but I didn’t want to deal with it and left before anyone else joined in or something. Then I decided to skip the rest of my classes and went back to the apartment so I could wallow, and Jihoon hyung was there.”

“I know he’s probably dealing with his own issues and stresses too, but when he kind of glared at me and asked shouldn’t I be in class, I snapped at him and said shouldn’t he think to ask why I might skip classes when I never do, or why I probably look like a straight up mess? If that isn’t what people who care about others might ask? And he just looked at me without saying anything, and I went into my room, slamming the door, and just napped. I slept until my friend blew up my phone asking if I wanted to go to a party, and you were there for the rest of it.”

A few seconds pass in silence. Seokmin looks down at his hands, which had been busy ruining the hem of his shirt as he talked. He can’t believe he put it all out there, but the grip on his heart has lessened considerably. Jeonghan makes a humming noise before saying, “That sounds like quite the day. And week.” Seokmin nods weakly. Jeonghan continues, “Everything piling up like that can definitely become overwhelming, and it’s totally okay to feel that way. Most of us would feel all kinds of emotions that build up into some ugly ball of stress.”

“I didn’t mean to snap at Jihoon hyung.” Seokmin interjects. “I was just really stressed out and I took it out on him. I didn’t even apologize before I left.”

“Do you think there was any truth behind what you said though?” Jeonghan asks with the slightest raise of his eyebrow. “I promise I won’t tell.”

Seokmin’s fingers tangle into his shirt’s already-wrinkled hem. “Sometimes I wish we could be closer, I guess. I wish I could tell him stuff, and he would tell me things too. I’ve always been a bit jealous of people who are close with their older siblings, when they would say they give each other advice, or just have a fun day together. And maybe I’m just physically clingy, and I know that it’s not his favorite thing to do, but I wish we could, um, hug or whatever.”

“If there’s anyone on Earth that deserves a hug right now, and at any point probably, it’s you.” Jeonghan’s voice is laced with a sincerity that catches Seokmin off-guard, and he probably looks like the textbook definition of a deer in headlights. “I’ve known you for way less than a single day, and I can already see that, Seokmin. I can’t help directly with you and Jihoon, because that’s something you need to bring up with him, but I guarantee things will work out. Jihoon doesn’t make it obvious in front of others, but he cares about the people around him deeply. And you’re one of the people closest to him.”

“I think you may be bad at reading people,” Seokmin manages to say.

“I’m incredibly observant,” Jeonghan counters.

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you’re compassionate and driven enough to shoulder a burden that’s not yours.”

Seokmin has to laugh. “That’s a really fancy way to say I’m stupid enough to let people walk all over me.”

“Hey, we all slip up sometimes.” The corner of his lip lifts a little. Does any of this even make sense anymore?

Seokmin sits back, feeling boneless. “Whatever, I’m just glad this week is over, and that someone listened to me cry about it without getting annoyed or lecturing me.”

Jeonghan leans forward with a smile. “It’s funny how much better you can feel after just talking to someone, isn’t it? Do you want another round of snacks to keep it going?”

“No,” Seokmin says with a shake of his head. “I think I’m ready for another round of sleeping.”

“I understand,” Jeonghan gathers the empty bowl and used spoons, holding them in one hand as he gets up. He offers his other hand to Seokmin. “Let me escort you home.”

Seokmin takes the hand with raised eyebrows, following Jeonghan out of the parlor after placing their used bowl and utensil in their rightful spots. The warmth from Jeonghan’s hand spreads throughout his body, settling in his heart.

The cool breeze hits them for the second time that night. Seokmin stares at the way the dim streetlights encase Jeonghan in a soft glow, illuminating his profile, and serving to contrast with his dark hair, which now seems to hold a warm, reddish hue.

Jeonghan turns to him, whispering, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Seokmin flushes, knowing he was being obvious, but still embarrassed at being caught. “I- “

“I’m just messing with you,” Jeonghan laughs, and Seokmin breathes out a laugh with him as they walk towards Jeonghan’s car. “You’re so cute Seokmin.”

“I’m not _cute_,” Seokmin grumbles as they get in. Jeonghan laughs again. “I was going to thank you for the ice cream, but I don’t know anymore.” It’s childish, but Seokmin’s allowed to be, he thinks. It’s been a rough week.

“It’s my pleasure,” Jeonghan says with a smile as he begins driving. “For real though, if you need to talk or even want free food, let me know okay? I don’t think I could say no to you. It would be much harder than saying no to Jihoon.”

Seokmin stares ahead at the narrow streets. “How am I going to let you know if I don’t have your number?”

Countless buildings pass, and eventually the apartment building with Seokmin and Jihoon’s shared room comes into view. Jeonghan stops the car, getting out to walk Seokmin to the door. “Jihoon has it. That’s my homework to you until we see each other again. Talk to him first and let me know how it goes.”

They’re stopped under a streetlight, moths casting fluttering shadows onto the pavement around them.

Seokmin sighs. His week from hell had ended on a high note, somehow.

“You may feel like you messed up a lot this week, but I promise that you didn’t,” Jeonghan says quietly, shifting his gaze from the moths to Seokmin. “The Seokmin from this week might’ve had some not-great results, but you didn’t give up, and you really tried your best. Even if you feel like you didn’t, you made it through this week, and that’s enough. Put this week behind and work on how the Seokmin from the upcoming week will be. You’re doing great already, and if you happen to fall again, know that I’ll always be on your side.” Jeonghan shifts on his feet. “It’s cheesy, but it’s always nice to have someone on your side.” Jeonghan looks at him and tilts his head, as if he’s asking Seokmin’s permission to his life for this purpose.

Seokmin kind of feels like his heart is crying. He steps towards Jeonghan – who is slightly shorter than him, Seokmin notices – and wraps his arms around him, whispering a quiet thank you when Jeonghan reciprocates. He hopes it’s enough to show his thanks.

They break apart, and Jeonghan steps back. “Good luck Seokmin, and don’t forget about your homework,” he says as he turns to leave. Seokmin nods as he watches Jeonghan walk to his car, moths overhead fluttering in the spring air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't done a group presentation in the last like 5 years it feels like  
this also felt like a huge word dump as i have mentioned so i would also like to say i am sorry for that... things are constantly happening... this entire thing is like some sort of convoluted way to vent
> 
> thank you for making it this far! much love and appreciation is being sent your way <3 i really mean it


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> enter WOOZI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bruh moment i can't believe this took me so long in my defense classes started also my laptop broke haha  
im sure many others have also started "classes" and "school" so. my deepest condolences

Seokmin stares at the door in front of him. The nondescript gray door stares back, daring him to face his fears. He gulps as he prepares to press the numbers he’s entered into the keypad hundreds of times before. The buttons are getting worn out, so the numbers in the code, 1822, are the only ones fading. If someone really wanted to figure out their code, Seokmin has no doubt they would not have a hard time. 

The buttons emit small beeping noises as he pushes them, and the lock slides open with a cheerful jingle. Seokmin takes the cold doorknob and makes his way in, toeing off his sneakers and setting them neatly to the side. As he closes the door behind him, he sees that a sliver of light cuts itself across the dark living room floor from Jihoon’s room. He’s up late as always, no doubt immersed in his world of creation. Seokmin carefully walks into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, noting the time on the microwave: 11:48pm.

Seokmin slowly sips his water in the darkness, wondering how he could broach the conversation with Jihoon. He didn’t want to disturb him right now; Jihoon hyung wouldn’t be at his kindest when interrupted in the middle of his work. Seokmin needed him at maximum generosity. Not that he thinks Jihoon would be mad at him, but it doesn’t hurt to keep all possibilities open.

The kitchen lights suddenly turn on and Seokmin’s plastic cup slips from his grasp. It falls pathetically onto the tile floor, its contents slowly spreading into a shapeless puddle. 

“Seokmin?” A voice inquires softly, and Seokmin looks up to find Jihoon standing by the entrance to the kitchen, one hand still on the light switch. He has a light blue blanket wrapped around his shoulders, the other hand tightly holding it in place. If Seokmin wasn’t so surprised, he might have thought about how cozy he looked. “I thought you would be back later.”

Seokmin’s heart is beating furiously from the scare, and he takes time for a few deep breaths. “I asked Jeonghan hyung to drop me off because I was tired,” he finally says, grabbing some paper towels to wipe the floor. “He was really nice.” Jihoon nods his acknowledgment and bends down to help, putting the blanket on the counter. The floor quickly becomes dry, and only the faint tension between Seokmin and Jihoon remains. 

Jihoon is the first to speak, leaning against the counter as his hands wander back to the blanket, balling it up against his chest. “Sorry about scaring you.”

Seokmin offers him a small smile. “It’s okay. I just scare too easily.”

Jihoon looks at Seokmin with a quirk of his lips. “That’s true.”

Silence falls between them again, with neither making a move to leave.

Seokmin decides he might as well go for it. He clears his throat before saying, “Can I apologize for something?”

Jihoon regards him with a slightly surprised expression, eyes scanning Seokmin’s face as if it would give him answers. “I don’t know what you would need to apologize for, but sure.”

The air becomes a bit stuffy, and Seokmin thinks about giving a cop-out answer. Maybe he should say sorry for being so jumpy, or sorry for making him clean up his mess? Something stupid like that would be easier to say than something serious. As Seokmin worries his bottom lip, pondering if he should give up that small bit of dignity, he figures the worst that can happen is that Jihoon thinks that he’s overstepping his boundaries as a cousin and has him erased from the family lineage. He hopes his relatives love him enough to not let that happen.

“I’m sorry about saying things I didn’t mean to you earlier. I was just frustrated, and you didn’t deserve that. And I’m sorry for worrying you this week, Jeonghan hyung told me that you were worried. I didn’t know you noticed, and you don’t need to worry anymore; everything is okay now.”

The microwave shows the time changing from 11:54pm to 11:55pm. The green numbers glare out from against their black background, unblinking.

A hand lands gently on his shoulder, and Seokmin looks to find that Jihoon is, albeit awkwardly, patting it. It’s unfamiliar but comforting.

Jihoon puts his hand down and puffs out a small sigh. “It’s okay. I was a bit surprised, but I can’t say I was undeserving of that.” He laughs softly. “I’m glad you’re feeling better though. I know I come off as kind of unapproachable, but you know,” a swallow, “it’s okay to talk to me if you’re having a hard time. I know you have other friends, but I’m here too.”

Seokmin would be lying if he said he wasn’t taken aback by the words that had come out of Jihoon’s mouth. “I really appreciate that hyung,” he says. Then more timidly, “Can we hug it out?”

Jihoon’s eyes narrow just slightly, but Seokmin can tell he has already won. Jihoon spreads his arms with some uncertainty and Seokmin gladly lands in them, squeezing his cousin as much as he dared. Seokmin lets go long after Jihoon had loosened his hold. 

“Can we promise each other something?”

“Hit me,” Jihoon replies with a raised eyebrow.

“Let’s tell each other everything from now on.”

Seokmin smiles nervously as Jihoon just looks at him.

“Like we’re in high school and gossiping about who’s dating who and what we think about that new student in the class over?” Jihoon ventures. “Or do I need to tell you where I hide my emergency funds along with every detail of my day?”

Seokmin shrugs. “Both, I guess. So let’s begin with who have you been texting thinking I won’t notice?”

Jihoon tries to keep a stoic facade, but Seokmin notices the way his eyes dart around nervously. 

“I keep my emergency funds under my mattress in a folded envelope, and I’ll tell you all about my day tomorrow. Let’s have dinner together while we’re at it, my treat? Goodnight, Seokmin. It’s getting really late and I’m sure you’re tired.” Jihoon turns to retreat into his room.

Seokmin can’t help the laugh that slips out of him. “Hyung, come back!” he says mournfully. “You forgot your blanket!” 

The light blue blanket gets tossed into the air, where it flies until it lands in Jihoon’s grasp, right before he closes the door to his room. Seokmin laughs again to himself, and pulls out his phone to text Jihoon as he makes his way to get ready for bed.

_ Sent: I really meant it when I said thank you though _

_ Received: I know _

_ Sent: you’re my favorite cousin <3 _

_ Received: Means a lot since all our other cousins are 30 and boring… _

_ Sent: but I still chose you <3 _

_ Received: </3 _

_ Sent: :( _

_ Received: <3 _

Seokmin goes to sleep feeling the lightest he has all week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... and there's my weeks' worth of work  
i really do just do this for fun in my free time but i am always thinking about it! if i go mia for a while i Will be back at some point!!  
also to everyone who's left me comments on this little impulse project: they really make my day <3


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> enter SEUNGKWAN and SURPRISE VISITOR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bruh moment

The sudden midday rays of sunshine pried open Seokmin’s eyelids as his hand flew up to protect his eyes from further assault. The sounds of the curtains being pulled apart and the sensations of his blankets, which were already kicked to the side, getting pulled even farther away from him caused him to curl in on himself. 

“Get up unless you want to be late and not have a ride while you’re at it,” a voice grumbles while the blankets get flapped against his side.

Seokmin squints against the wind that now inhibits his sense of sight. A familiar figure stands silhouetted against the sun, grabbing the edges of his blanket and waving its arms up and down distractedly.

“Please spare me,” Seokmin mutters against his wrist, and the wind disappears as the lights begin to flicker.

Seokmin groans and flips to glare towards the light switch, where Seungkwan stares back at him, unfazed, with a mildly interested yet annoyed look. “Are you going to get up?” 

Seokmin ignores this question. “You know that’s not doing much considering how bright it is outside.”

Seungkwan silently moves to close the curtains, then resumes his post by the switches, continuing his attack on Seokmin’s eyes. Seokmin reluctantly stretches and moves to get up, the sudden change in posture sending his head for a temporary loop. He shakes his head, feeling his hair flopping in all directions. After a brief moment to pause and relax to the tune of the light switch, Seokmin finally swings his legs off the bed and onto the floor.

“Get out so I can get ready,” Seokmin says, throwing a stray sock in Seungkwan’s direction. Seungkwan catches it with ease and walks to hand it back to Seokmin.

“Thank you for the sock, but I must refuse,” Seungkwan says with an exaggerated apologetic look, gently placing the sock in Seokmin’s hand and wiping his own hand on Seokmin’s shirt. Seokmin shouldn’t be -- and isn’t -- surprised by this turn of events, and brushes off his shirt with feigned pompousness. 

He maintains eye contact with Seungkwan as he shoves the sock down Seungkwan’s sky blue shirt, carefully tucked into a pair of black slacks. “No, I insist.”

Seungkwan’s face loses all traces of previous composure, reminding Seokmin of when they had first met: when Seokmin’s orientation roommate, Mingyu, had spilled his shaved ice on Seungkwan’s shirt during college orientation. Seungkwan’s then-navy hair had contrasted marvelously with the cherry-red sugar spreading over his white t-shirt. It had also complimented how his face, already red from the sun, had started to grow even redder. Mingyu had apologized profusely, trying to use his shirt to wipe Seungkwan’s when the lack of napkins became apparent. Seungkwan had swatted Mingyu away, his anger deflating when he noticed Mingyu’s crestfallen expression. Mingyu had then given Seungkwan one of his free t-shirts he had gotten earlier to change into, and Seungkwan had worn the shirt the whole day, never mind that it had been horribly big on him. The three of them spent the rest of orientation as a group, which had, surprisingly, continued past orientation and into their semesters of college.

Back in the moment, with some of Seokmin’s worn shirt clenched in his fist, Seungkwan yanks the sock from under his shirt, undoing the effort gone into the tuck, and mimics rubbing the sock against Seokmin’s face. Seokmin lets his body go limp at the mercy of Seungkwan’s frustrations, feeling his head roll around and laughing.

“I’m going to go tell Jihoon hyung,” Seungkwan shouts behind him as he lets go of Seokmin and leaves the room. He turns and sticks out his tongue before closing the door, which Seokmin gladly returns.

The door is closed with slight force, and Seokmin is left alone with the sudden silence of the room. He begins to think about the previous day - the party, how Jeonghan had come out of nowhere to get him out, the ice cream, the talk with Jihoon, and -- oh god -- the crying. He shakes himself out of this tangent and gets focused on actually getting ready.

Seokmin trudges to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, looking in the mirror and noticing the circles under his eyes that had accumulated over the course of the week. He rubs at them as if that would do anything, sighing at the faint redness it creates. The sounds of Seungkwan and Jihoon’s laughs echo down the hall into the bathroom, making his brain think a tangle of thoughts he couldn’t decipher. Seokmin gives himself a moment to close his eyes and breathe before heading back into his room to change.

The pile of clothes on the floor are a minor obstacle for Seokmin, and he steps around it to open the doors to his closet, filled with an array of neutral to vivid colored clothes. His eyes land on a light hoodie the color of strawberry cream, and his hands pulls it off the hanger without him even realizing. It reminds him of Jeonghan, with his lavender shirt and strawberry hair. As he pulls it on over his head, Seokmin finds himself slightly disappointed that it doesn’t smell like strawberry, and slightly weirded out that he had expected it to in the first place. He then pulls on a random pair of shorts that he thinks may vaguely match his top, tugging on some socks as he makes his way out of his room.

When Seokmin makes it to the kitchen for water, Seungkwan and Jihoon are sitting on the couch, giggling at something Seungkwan has pulled up on his phone. Seokmin grabs a glass of water and walks over, sitting next to Seungkwan. “What’s so funny?”

Seungkwan pouts and locks his phone, putting it in his pocket. “I’m not telling.” Jihoon snorts out a laugh at his other side, lightly slapping Seungkwan’s shoulder. Seokmin sees Seungkwan holding in a laugh as he throws Jihoon an affronted look, but they’re almost running late, and Seungkwan grabs his keys from the table to leave.

The glass in Seokmin’s hand is empty by now, and he sets it down on the table to follow Seungkwan to the door. They put on their shoes and Seokmin follows Seungkwan out the door to the elevator.

Shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket, Seokmin stares at the silver elevator door. The familiar and soft mechanical sounds of the elevator making its way up and down the building make their way through the small crevices.

“Thanks for getting here so early,” Seokmin says, knowing Seungkwan had probably sacrificed his precious Saturday morning sleep to come get him.

“Well, Soonyoung hyung told me he was going to drag you to a party when I told him I had plans last night and couldn’t go, so I figured you wouldn’t be up in time,” Seungkwan says. “I didn’t think you’d actually be sleeping until noon, but it’s whatever.”

The elevator announces its arrival with a ding! and the two get on, Seokmin pressing the button for the ground floor. The doors glide closed.

“I left the party early, but I guess I was pretty tired.” Seokmin doesn’t know why, but he doesn’t want to tell Seungkwan about Jeonghan. He’ll tease him about it for sure, but there’s something else there.

Seungkwan nods, not questioning Seokmin any further. “I don’t know why Soonyoung hyung always wants someone to go to parties with him if he’s just going to go off by himself. Really makes an awkward situation sometimes”

A small ding! sounds again, and the elevator opens to the apartment lobby. They walk out into the street where Seungkwan had parked, passing the lamp where Seokmin and Jeonghan had parted the night before. It occurs to him that he still didn’t have a way to contact Jeonghan, and Seokmin makes a mental note to ask Jihoon hyung about it when he gets back.

They walk towards Seungkwan’s car and get in, Seungkwan punching in the address for the local library as Seokmin fastens his seatbelt. The two had started going to the library every Saturday afternoon at the beginning of the semester, reading books to children for the volunteer hours, but also for the fun of it. The kids always put a smile on Seokmin’s face, and Seungkwan often said they were like a breath of fresh air amidst the musty and miserable college air.

Seungkwan turns on the radio to a generic pop music station, and begins to talk about the dinner he had last night. He had met up with one of his longtime friends, Vernon. Seokmin had never actually met him, but they apparently shared the same birthday. Vernon was also apparently incredibly handsome, but Seokmin was a bit hesitant to believe Seungkwan’s exuberant praises. 

Seokmin lets Seungkwan’s excited narration of the previous night’s events wash over him as his eyes trace the buildings outside the window. Vernon had apparently changed his major again, this time to arts management? He had also managed to secure a job at the campus Starbucks, so if the already long lines get even longer, don’t be surprised. Also don’t be surprised if he sees someone fit to be walking with the gods working at Starbucks.

They arrive at the library during the story of how Vernon had transported Seungkwan back to his place via shared electric scooter, and Seokmin’s mental image of Vernon grows fuzzier as his character becomes even more of an enigma.

The kids’ section of the library is welcoming in its usual contrasting pastel and vivid tones, larger-than-life paintings of insects and animals decorating the walls. The soft cushions around the room invite anyone to sit down with a good book, if you can stand the slight chaos of small children around the area.

When Seokmin and Seungkwan arrive, the few kids scattered around turn towards them, running up to them with smiles on their faces and books in their hands. They greet each other with hugs and high fives, the kids’ excited chatter about their weeks filling Seokmin’s ears. Seokmin takes his place with Seungkwan in front of the cushions, where a makeshift semicircle of eager listeners are ready to listen to their stories. The two of them dramatically act out the books, shifting between all sorts of voices and exaggerated movements to make the experience fun for everyone involved. 

This soon becomes tiring for Seokmin, and Seungkwan seems to feel the same as he announces that the plays are over for the day, causing the kids to groan. They pick up their books and wander closer to their favorite volunteer, where the books would be read to them in a much more conventional manner. Seokmin still tries to act out much of the books, smiling when his group giggles in response to his expressions or movements. The way children pay attention so completely, with stars and innocence dotting their eyes, had always given Seokmin a sense of awe. 

Time passes, and soon most of the kids get picked up. Seokmin is left with one kid: Minji. He’s noticed she’s often one of the last kids left by the end of his shift. The library has grown much quieter, Seungkwan’s narration the only sound that reaches their ears. Minji is sitting in Seokmin’s lap flipping through a book about Christmas.

“Do you believe in angels?”

Seokmin considers her sudden question, understanding Minji’s thought process when he notices the page she’s looking at contains snow angels.

“I think they could be real. There could be one watching over you right now,” Seokmin replies.

“Like a guardian angel?”

“Exactly like that.”

“My mom said we all have a guardian angel to watch over us. And when she’s not at home with me to be my guardian angel, my dog is my guardian angel.”

Seokmin’s heart melts at the way Minji says this, her words not yet perfectly enunciated, but clearly sincere.

“Can I be your guardian angel at the library?”

Minji looks up at him and smiles. “Of course!” She turns back to flip through the book again. “Who’s your guardian angel?”

The question is one Seokmin doesn’t know if he can answer with certainty. His brain supplies him with Jeonghan’s name, and as much as his heart beats at the thought, he waves it away as wishful thinking.

“My friends!” He finally answers with a smile, and sees Minji open her mouth to ask another question, but her eyes catch sight of her mother at the doorway.

Seokmin watches Minji run to her mom, landing in her arms. Minji catches Seokmin’s eyes and waves at him, generously blowing him a kiss. Both Seokmin and Minji’s mother laugh, and the library slips back into silence. Seokmin hadn’t noticed Seungkwan no longer had any kids to tend to, and had instead found a home in one of the cushions. He walks over, noticing just how young Seungkwan looked with his round features, though he was only a year younger than him. 

Seungkwan’s eyes are closed, his breathing even. Seokmin takes Seungkwan’s cheeks in his fingers, gently pinching them. Seungkwan’s eyes fly open, a hand flying up to his cheeks. 

“Don’t do that!” he grumbles with a glare as he rubs his cheeks. His voice is rough from sleep, and his shirt is now creased, but still tucked.

“I couldn’t resist,” Seokmin teases.

Seungkwan stands and side-eyes him carefully, letting out a huff. “Whatever. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Seokmin answers, and they make their way out of the library. 

As they pass the front desk, the librarian calls them over. She thanks them for coming in every week, and hands them each a gift card for the ice cream place down the street. Seokmin notices that, of course, it’s the one Jeonghan had taken him to last night.

“I don’t really like this place,” Seungkwan comments on the drive back to Seokmin’s. “Their only good item is -”

“The Strawberry Supreme,” Seokmin says at the same time Seungkwan does, earning him a surprised look.

“Have you been there?”

“Yeah, only once though.”

Seungkwan hums as he pulls into the same parking space he had been in earlier. They share their goodbyes, and Seungkwan makes him promise to make time for dinner with him and Mingyu one weekend. 

The skies are darkening as Seokmin walks towards his apartment, the orange and navy hues painting a melancholy picture in the skies. He punches in the familiar code over the faded buttons, opening the door to find Jeonghan on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bruh moment
> 
> \--  
i didn't mean to cut it off there lmao i promise :p i just got hit with inspiration and wrote for like 3 hours then i had to be like i have to stop before i sit here for another 3 hours  
but the good news is i have the next chapter started! and it will b up soon! if u were wondering wheres jeonghan hes almost here!!  
but i do want to say that if it isnt up soon it just means i got eaten by my exams :)


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> movie night with chicken!! yeehaw  
[!mild to moderate train to busan spoilers!]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i Have to say.... I am so sorry for abandoning this for 2 months i really let academics get the best of me..! how could I, a student, do so... this was literally sitting open in a tab all that time but i just couldn't get to it often enough hhh sorry if anyone was like bruh moment she really said im outtie   
i am Not heading out of this piece though bc i still have a vision for it that i want to fulfill eventually!! also this chapter is not that long all things considered but i wanted to get something out yall feel me

Seokmin and Jeonghan look at each other, and Jeonghan smiles with a languid wave. Seokmin returns the wave, stepping back to check the apartment number on the door. After confirming that he was, in fact, at his own apartment, Seokmin slowly walks in and shuts the door.

“You’re back,” Jihoon says while walking out of the bathroom. “I invited Jeonghan hyung for dinner since I kind of owe both of you. I hope that’s fine.”

“Uh. Yeah,” Seokmin replies, still standing in the doorway. “It’s, um, good to see you again hyung,” his head is reeling at this unexpected development, searching for a way to stay cool and collected in the face of someone who had single-handedly taken over a good portion of his thoughts. And it had only been less than 24 hours since they met.

Jeonghan beams. “Long time no see.” He’s wearing a plain, cream-colored t-shirt today, paired with black pants. The socks peeking out from beneath his pant legs show a pattern of tiny white dots against a black background. “I thought I’d forget how you look.” Under the soft lights of the living room, Jeonghan is all gentle lines, the curves of his features in a harmony that makes him glow. Jeonghan pats the sofa next to him. “Come sit!”

Seokmin swallows then nods, and Jihoon walks by, snorting at the stupid expression Seokmin probably has on. Seokmin walks to the couch and sits, sinking into the cushions and decidedly not looking in Jeonghan’s direction. If he did, he would probably start staring again. Jihoon sits down on the other side of Jeonghan, grabbing the remote and turning on Netflix.

A hand sneaking around his shoulder interrupts Seokmin’s mindless observation of the Netflix home screen. “My two favorite Lees in one place! And one of them is buying me chicken for dinner.” Jeonghan pulls both Seokmin and Jihoon closer to himself, much to Seokmin’s horror. His dismay grows when he discovers Jeonghan’s hair still smells of strawberries. As Seokmin’s brain explores the thought of picking strawberries with Jeonghan in an infinitely green field, a gentle and teasing voice whispers impossibly close to his ear, “You. Don’t slouch when you sit. It’s bad for your back.” 

Seokmin sits up in an instant, his ear burning from the ghosts of the small puffs of air. He looks to his right, where Jeonghan is slumped into the couch, smiling up at him, and Seokmin can’t help the blood rushing to his face as he falls against the couch to resume his previous position. He hears Jeonghan and Jihoon’s laughter over his own heartbeats, but elects to ignore them, pulling on his hood and tightening the laces so that only his nose is showing. He has to breathe, after all.

Jeonghan shifts next to him, poking his side. Seokmin wriggles and blindly waves his arms to swat him away. 

“Aw Seokmin, are you pouting under all that?” Jeonghan coos, patting the top of Seokmin’s hood. 

“I hope he keeps it on forever. Less mouths to feed,” Jihoon grumbles, but the smile can be heard through his voice.

“First of all, I don’t pout,” Seokmin enunciates from behind the fabric. “Second, I’m going to eat all the chicken once it arrives. You won’t even get to touch it, Jihoon hyung.” 

Jihoon laughs, and Seokmin feels a hand patting his stomach. “Good luck.”

Seokmin curls up against the touch, turning away from his two enemies. He falls over sideways so he can lie down, hitting the sofa with a bounce.

“Look at what you’ve done. You’ve destroyed him,” Jeonghan’s voice deadpans, reaching his ears through the darkness inside his hoodie.

“He’s lucky the couch is so long. What if he had miscalculated and fallen off the end?” Jihoon answers. “Leave him to do what he does, let’s watch  _ Train to Busan _ .”

The television makes a few pinging sounds, and soon begins to play the movie that had left Seokmin utterly broken so many times before. He wonders if he’ll be the only one sobbing at the end, if Jeonghan is the type to cry at movies, or the one making fun of those who do. His thoughts spiral through zombies on the train, if him and Jeonghan were in that situation, would Seokmin be able to heroically save the day? Or would Jeonghan be the dashing protagonist, Seokmin his bold sidekick? The muffled sounds of the movie become white noise in his mind, entangling with bizarre daydreaming, and Seokmin finds himself closing his eyes in the cocoon he had built for himself, drifting off to a dreamless sleep.

Something abrasive rubs against Seokmin’s nose, leaving bits of fried batter and grease behind. A warm hand sneaks into the crevice between his face and his hoodie, gentle fingers pulling the fabric away from his face. 

Light hits Seokmin’s closed eyelids, the sudden contrast causing him to grimace. Jeonghan’s soft voice accompanies the wafting fragrance of the twice-fried chicken. “Open wide,” it murmurs.

Seokmin opens his mouth, and the side of a chicken leg enters his mouth. He bites down, crumbs flying off to find their destination of the floor, or by Seokmin’s lips. 

“You’re such a baby,” Jeonghan laughs, and Seokmin opens his eyes just in time to catch him in the moment before it fades. Jeonghan’s eyes had formed crescents, his mouth opening to let out a laugh so uniform it almost sounded fake. Seokmin’s sleep-hazed brain makes no effort to move as Jeonghan’s hand approaches his face. Jeonghan’s fingers brush against his face once more, this time to rub off the crumbs on his lips.

“I’m like twenty-”

“It’s okay to be a baby.” Jeonghan interrupts Seokmin’s flustered words.

Gong Yoo’s character shouts for his daughter at the train station. Zombies close in, only a miracle can save them now.

“But I’m not,” Seokmin whispers.

“Yeah, okay,” Jeonghan replies with an incredibly fond smile. He hands Seokmin the chicken leg, and motions for him to sit up.

Seokmin gazes at Jeonghan, mind blank. Jeonghan soon turns back to the movie, and Seokmin is left holding his chicken leg on the couch. He notices that Jihoon is on the other side of the couch, mouth hanging open as he sleeps. A blanket covers half his body, and Seokmin guesses Jeonghan must have put it on him. The kind gesture twists his heart. Jihoon must be really tired, Seokmin thinks. Jihoon hyung would never give up chicken like that on any other day.

He turns back to Jeonghan, who is sitting on the floor, back to the couch and knees drawn up as he eats in the semi-darkness. Seokmin feels a pang of guilt as he realizes that Jeonghan must have been watching the movie by himself while he and Jihoon slept. He also must have paid the delivery guy himself, seeing as Jihoon was dead to the world.

Seokmin slinks down onto the floor next to Jeonghan, but with a healthy gap in between, wincing when his joints pop.

“I guess you’re not a baby since you’ve got those old joints,” Jeonghan whispers as Seokmin settles.

“Stop,” Seokmin groans, “I just didn’t want to get crumbs on the couch.”

The glass door held by a flimsy bat cracks as the zombies pound their pale and bloodied hands against it. Seokmin shrinks into himself, the loud sound and palpable tension drumming against his heart. Whether the pounding was all thanks to the zombies or partly to the wafting smell of Jeonghan’s shampoo, Seokmin would never know.

“Why do people watch movies like this, right?” Jeonghan’s voice makes its way through the air. 

Seokmin’s heart grabs onto the voice. “Yeah,” he agrees. “It’s awfully sad and brutal. My poor heart.”

Jeonghan chuckles against the sound of screaming from the TV. “I bet you cried when you first watched this.”

Seokmin sits up to face Jeonghan, and the chicken leg gets tossed into the box it came from. “The first time? I cry every time! When the -- the baseball guy tries to save the cheerleader, when the big strong man sacrifices himself, and when Gong Yoo thinks about his daughter --” Seokmin struggles to push down his emotions just thinking about the scenes. His poor tear ducts are already getting ready to get to work.

“I've never cried during this movie,” Jeonghan comments, eyes on the screen.

“Weird way to say you don’t feel things.”

“I do feel things,” Jeonghan says, almost whines. His eyes flicker to Seokmin, then back to the screen.

“If you’ve never cried at the baby scene I don’t believe you.”

“Alright,” Jeonghan retorts, “But I haven’t.”

Seokmin shrugs and resumes eating his chicken leg. The movie progresses on the screen, the party now separated on the train. He gets absorbed into the plot, grimacing at the plight of every character. He felt for them all, except maybe the bad ones. None of them asked to be in the situation they’re in, but here they were, fighting zombies on a train.

The movie captivates him despite Seokmin having seen it multiple times, and the sad points still hit hard. By the time the little girl’s song is ringing through the tunnel, Seokmin’s vision is swimming, his breaths short and nose snotty. His hand travels shakily through the air for a tissue, and his arm jostles Jeonghan, who seems to have fallen asleep during the movie. Seokmin hadn’t even noticed Jeonghan’s breathing even out. 

Jeonghan’s eyes flutter open, squinting at Seokmin, then at the credits as they roll. The hazy confusion and vague concern in his eyes disappear as he shuts them with a breathy, “Ha, you baby.”

“Let me be sad,” Seokmin replies, wiping his nose. “You don’t know what I went through because you fell asleep. You didn’t see what happened.”

“Baby, baby, baby,” Jeonghan sing-songs. He sways from side to side, and leans against Seokmin’s shoulder, letting out a sigh.

Seokmin stiffens up immediately, mental recording of the fluctuations of Jeonghan’s voice, the way he sounded after waking up disrupted by the contact. He hopes that it wasn't too weird of him to do that. He couldn’t worry about that now though, not when Jeonghan’s weight was against his, and he looks only at the TV screen, thoughts racing through his mind. Jeonghan smelled nice, like yesterday. He felt warm, and what Seokmin would do to feel warmer. Was Jeonghan going to fall asleep again? Like this? Against Seokmin? He doesn’t know how long he could stay sitting, and --

“Your nose is dripping.”

At this, Seokmin flinches and turns away from Jeonghan, ears burning. His chest feels like a flock of birds is flying in it, and he brings the tissue to his face, only to find his nose dry, though a little sniffly.

“No, it’s not,” Seokmin says.

“Yeah, it’s not,” Jeonghan agrees, playfully nudging Seokmin. “It looked like it was about to though.”

Seokmin watches as Jeonghan stretches in his peripheral vision. Seokmin thought of himself as fairly tall, but Jeonghan was a different kind of tall. His limbs were well-proportioned, his shoulders broad but not too broad. 

Jeonghan stands up with a grace of someone who was not sleeping on the floor for the last hour. He looks around, noticing Jihoon still asleep, and tucks him in a bit more. Seokmin picks up the remote to turn off the TV. The room is nearly pitch-black.

The two make their way to the door, and Jeonghan puts on his shoes. 

“Sleep well Seokmin, tell Jihoon I hope he rested well too,” Jeonghan says as he steps out the door.

Seokmin trails behind him, following him partway out.

“I will. Thanks for coming over. Oh, and sorry you had to pay for the chicken, I’m sure Jihoon hyung will take care of it though,” Seokmin wonders if he sounds like he’s rambling. “Sorry we both fell asleep too, but you fell asleep later so I think we’re even.”

Jeonghan laughs softly, the sound echoing in the empty hall. “Yeah, we are.” He ruffles Seokmin’s hair with a gentle hand. “Goodnight, but before I forget.”

Seokmin is faced with a new contact screen on Jeonghan’s phone. He takes it with careful hands, typing in a Lee Seokmin along with his number. His heart pounds a little faster, getting ahead of itself with how the metaphorical distance between them was now lessened.

“Sweet,” Jeonghan says when Seokmin hands him back his phone. “I’ll definitely change your name though.”

“That’s fine,” Seokmin says, a hand making its way to the back of his neck. He hopes that Jeonghan changes it to something cute. Jeonghan seemed to be the type.

“I’ll text you sometime, yeah? Dream of me.” Jeonghan calls with a wink as he heads down the hall.

Seokmin nods, then calls out an affirmative when he realizes Jeonghan may not be able to see him too well. He watches as Jeonghan grows smaller, and steps back into his apartment. He can hear Jihoon’s even breathing from the couch; he could sleep through a lot when he’s tired. The apartment feels emptier without Jeonghan’s presence, and Seokmin strolls to his own room, closing the door and collapsing on his bed without bothering with the lights. His mind is a jumble, as it always is before bed, but he can sort through everything later. For now, he closes his eyes, and accepts the rush of strawberry-scented sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always! thank you all for reading my words i love you guys and appreciate you all if you celebrate thanksgiving happy thanksgiving! happy holidays! i'll be back soon hopefully but i said that last time! but i also have another story in the works so we'll see how i manage  
they all kept falling asleep in this chapter i think im just always tired whenever i work on this  
also sorry if i was inaccurate about train to busan bc there's a good chance i was wrong about events i myself haven't watched that movie in a hot second also did you guys notice i write in present tense bc i sure didn't

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this for catharsis reasons (again) which is just me saying i want a hug  
but thank you for holding on until the end if you've made it this far i appreciate you and love you i hope it wasn't a bad experience i need to take a writing class or something


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